


Calling

by starrymeis (meiqis)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Demons, Falling In Love, Jaemin is an incubus, M/M, Magical Bond, Magical Realism, Mild Smut, Possessive Behavior, Witches & Warlocks, renjun is a witch, they do... stuff...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23319292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiqis/pseuds/starrymeis
Summary: “Sorry, I’m-” His words broke off as his eyes met with a stranger passing by outside. Grey orbs called for him, looking like liquid silver, and his breath hitched from the way the spell tightened around his ribcage like a stray trapped by a leash. It bordered painful, the way it dug into his flesh when only it was invisible, not to be perceived by any eye nor hand. Magic in its rawest form.The feeling passed by as fast as it had approached him, and from the other side of the table the kids eyed him with suspicion and worry in various degrees. “Are you okay, hyung? You seem a bit pale.”“He seems plenty okay to me,” the stranger said at the same time as Renjun  asked, “What are you doing here?”“Something delicious called for me,” was about the last thing they could hear, before Renjun’s lips were taken in a kiss. The rope tightened around his chest, more, harder, faster. It connected with its match, without any more incantation needed.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Comments: 29
Kudos: 241





	Calling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bunnyctzen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnyctzen/gifts).



> Here I am, with yet another story for lovely baby [Lee](https://twitter.com/xingowo)!
> 
> Once again, it's based on weird cc ramblings but also veeery loosely on The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina where I picked up some terms and pictures to go with but I altered it quite heavily so if you watched it: I'm sorry, if you didn't: it's a good show but not needed!  
> (Will there ever be a day I'm not indulging Lee with stories? no, no, I don't think so, actually...)
> 
> Since it's me, though, we're not doing sweet and innocent magic sooo:
> 
>  **trigger warnings** \- sexual innuendos, intercourse, etc. dark magic and Satan. little violence and cameo murder. foul language.

The wind was howling, breaking through the branches with a force sufficient to have several of them cracking in anguish. It was enough to nearly catapult him out of his shoes as well, mere stubbornness keeping him grounded as he made his way forward to a wayward thrumming with magical energy, one he was familiar with, close to the small spring making its way south. 

No light was illuminating his way on this moonless night, the empty sky glaring down at him, with but a stolid stars left twinkling down at him as he continued his path. Eventually, like a little thumping heartbeat, he could feel the energy surging beneath the ground, right next to where the water flowed. 

The wind had him staggering and nearly faltering in his step as he moved over. With a branch, he drew a cycle into the dirt, over and over, until there was a clear indentation carved into the ground, followed by rinsing it with distilled water from a bottle. Distilled and infused with a few drops of his blood. Too little to color the water but strong enough to lure in the monsters crawling their world.  
Digging his knuckles into the center of the round shape, forming an indentation sufficient to keep away the wind, he dropped a piece of dry wood he lit. Flames licked at the small shape, engulfing it and, at the last moment before it was all burnt to ashes, he whispered, “Approxima me, conjux. Approxima me.”

Louder this time, the wind howled, dancing around his cloaked shape with more force than before, a response to his incantation. An expected response. He had called upon what ruined this humane world and as any other time, they would be force to respond.

  


There was a whole lot of stuff Renjun had learned in his life, about magic and demons and preaching to the Dark Lord himself rather than some deity that condemned free will. He had learned a lot, and the countdown on his own clock was closing in on him, with his seventeenth birthday approaching and therefore the end of his time in the human world. It was an outcome he had already anticipated, had always been aware of.

Witches raised in the demonic realm had no such thing to worry about but those raised in this present world had to study in the alternate dimension for a set time. Not only was it chained to the promise of changing one’s life to the Dark Lord but furthermore was it to teach all those spells parents were unable to. The Dark Arts, as hard as they were to acquire, demanded there to be more to teaching than simple knowledge of executing it on your own. Simple spells could be taught be parents, by midwives, caretakers. But there was only so much a witch could do in the humane wilderness without feeling trapped, unable to release their magic it would feel like it was a trapped bird in a body shaped cage. In worst cases, it would drive them mad.

The spell performed at night, the one that had him relying on coffee as he stared outside the shop’s window rather than listening to Jisung and Chenle talk, was one of those. A simple incantation that would slowly be carried away as the circle drawn was trampled upon by animals and broken by the weather, and by the time it was gone, no one more creature would be looking for him. Until then, it would feel like a thread bound around his chest, dangling through the air, looking for its other half to connect to, for the familiar he was looking for to approach him before his next birthday. 

Underneath the table, Chenle kicked his shin, huffing softly. “Ge, if you’re not even paying attention, why are you here?”

Embarrassingly enough, it took Renjun a few seconds to process the single words and make sense of them, of the mere fact that he was called out for his negligence of their conversation after he had been the one to call for their attendance this noon. Sitting at home had become boring, after cramming through one grimoire after another in preparation of his moving to the nether realm. 

“Sorry, I’m-” His words broke off as his eyes met with a stranger passing by outside. Grey orbs called for him, looking like liquid silver, and his breath hitched from the way the spell tightened around his ribcage like a stray trapped by a leash. It bordered painful, the way it dug into his flesh when only it was invisible, not to be perceived by any eye nor hand. Magic in its rawest form.

The feeling passed by as fast as it had approached him, and from the other side of the table the kids eyed him with suspicion and worry in various degrees. Jisung was the first to open up, leaning across the table with a hand held out to feel for a fever and a question on his lips of, “Are you okay, hyung? You seem a bit pale.”

Before the hand could even touch his forehead, another interrupted, nimble fingers wrapped around Jisung’s dainty limb. Nails glinting a tad too intense in the moody light, looking a tad too red to seem natural, for Renjun it was all too easy to realize what the stranger was. As if the pools of liquid silver, without any trace of pupils found, were not enough to give that away just yet. 

“He seems plenty okay to me,” the stranger said at the same time as the witch asked, “What are you doing here?”

The youngsters across them just looked at them in confusion, eyes darting around from one to another, and before either of them could ask what all of this was about, the stranger was already leaning downwards. “Something delicious called for me,” was about the last thing they could hear, before Renjun’s lips were taken in a kiss. The rope tightened around his chest, more, harder, faster. It connected with its match, without any more incantation needed.

He had called for a familiar, and a familiar he had received. And this moment, it marked the very moment of their tying the knot.

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


“What do you mean I can’t come with you?” Jaemin asked, perched on his bed and hands folded obediently with his legs. It was weird to Renjun, still, to see his familiar not take the shape of a turtle like his uncle Kun’s, or the golden shepherd that was Ten’s, or any other animal as seemed to be the unwritten law for familiars. Except for his, apparently. 

“I mean,” the younger repeated, as if he hadn’t done the same since his dark baptism, “You can’t come with me, because the Academy of Unseen Arts is protected against demons. Even if you sneaked in because of your bond with me, they would kick you out in an instant.”

He dropped yet another bunch of tees into his suitcase, well aware of what he could leave with his uncles and what he would take to his new school. As far as he was concerned, he would only stay in school on weekdays anyways, returning home because he couldn’t bear the thought of being away from his uncles for too long, or leaving his friends on their own, not to mention how much Mark would have to suffer being stuck alone with their two older family members.

“Injunnie,” the demon promptly whined, sneaky hands finding their way forwards to entangle in the witch’s shirt and pull him over with demonic force, inhuman strength, that catapulted them both into bed. Their bodies pulled tight together by the pink haired, fingers sliding beneath clothes, and nails leaving their marks along Renjun’s skin who just hissed in return. “I’m a sex demon. I need to feed. How could you just leave me starving like this?”

Jaemin was just another complication on the way. One the recently turned immortal was yet to get comfortable around, although the demon had… certain ways of doing this. 

There was no denying the connection between them, the bond they had crafted on their very first day, that had turned Jaemin into his familiar, a figure to channel his energies, focus his magic, protect him of the otherworldly. Unfortunately, not being a sleep demon like Kun’s turtle or hellhound like Ten’s, Renjun had ended up with an incubus, a creature feeding off someone’s living energy, sucking them dry. He would have done the same with the witch if not for their connection forbidding them from doing just that.

“You’re not- fuck,” the younger groaned, finding teeth attached to his neck, gnawing at his skin, eager to leave marks like a possessed lover, and a knee slotting between his thighs, pressing against his crotch. 

Did he mention yet that Jaemin had a quite peculiar way of getting familiar with Renjun in all the wrong ways?

  


  


“You have… an interesting way of saying goodbye,” Mark pointed out, drawing the right insignia for the portal on the ground. That was one of the warlock’s best abilities but twisting the thought around, it was just befitting of a magical creature trapped inside a single house to look for as many ways to escape as was possible. Stuck in one place, it was too long a time.

Yet, the older seemed awfully nonchalant about the way Jaemin was clinging to Renjun still, feeding off the last of his magical energy instead of his life forces, sucking mark after mark into the forcefully exposed shoulders. The witch had already given up, overcome with knowledge about this not possibly ending well the moment he had reeked the aphrodisiac surrounding the bane of his existence called a familiar. 

Incubi and succubi. They were free spirits, roaming the humane grounds, looking for victims, draining them until they looked like shriveled up plums. Over time, they had become more silent about it, didn’t drain everything but the lifespan left for each of their victims was a year at most. Immune system weakened, some process within their genes magically sped up. Sooner or later, they were extirpated by illness or failure of heart. 

They were hungry, always so hungry. Couldn’t survive longer than a week without being fed, without consuming someone’s life and force and draining them entirely. No wonder having one as familiar would be quite as exhausting, a clingy bunch just looking for food, but it contradicted with all of Renjun’s inner will. 

Physical proximity, the constant need to touch and reach wherever no one had been allowed to before. For while sexual actions were no stranger to the witch, it had never been with another person. Virginity was sacred to the Dark Lord, their bodies had to be pure upon signing of contract, and after, only after, were they free to do as they want. Surely, no one had expected a familiar to stay in human shape at that point of time. Neither to be a crazed sex demon.

“He has to feed.” Ten strolled into the living room as if he owned it which, actually, wasn’t untrue. He did own it. And Ten might also have been about the only one of their little mismatched family who had taken well to the news of Jaemin being an incubus, of all the demons that would possibly be out there. “At the end of the week, he will be starved. And I’m not about to get killed by a leech like that.”

Jaemin hissed in response, lips still attached to Renjun’s neck who went through the contents of his luggage in his mind still.

Mark had gotten surprisingly fast used to it. Not unexpectedly, after being bored out of his mind after decades of isolation. With something exciting happening around the house, he had also been intriguingly quick to overlook the indecency that was a sex demon. It had taken Renjun days to teach Jaemin about the wonders of a morning gown, rather than walking around naked.

Who hadn’t taken it quite as well had been Kun, whining for hours about “lost innocence” and “defiling demons” and what more. Jaemin had mostly laughed about it, but Renjun had been highly embarrassed. He had always known his older uncle to be more protective, more domestic, undoubtedly also more than skilled in the arts of witchcraft. Yet there was something incriminatingly awkward about that kind of situation.

Said uncle was also giving Jaemin the stinky eye - as much as Kun could have one - upon entering the living room as their last members, looking at the incantation written down on the ground that was finished by lighting a single candle. The walls grumbled and groaned, shook for a moment, and a door took shape out of thin air. Eventually, the incantation would be soaked up into the candle, and for as long as there was sufficient wax in the glass, the portal could be opened again and again. From their side, at least. How Renjun was to return, he had yet to figure out.

“That does not seem like a valid excuse to have your nephew misused like that,” Kun retorted with a frown upon his handsome face, staring at the sex demon with stressing eyes. A silent command for Jaemin to let go but, opposing the warlock’s intention, the hellborne tightened his grip around the witch’s waist, teeth digging harder into the crook of his bound’s neck.

The moan tearing itself from Renjun’s lips clawed through the silence of the room, unable to feel pain while aphrodisiac spilled through Jaemin’s spit into the open wound, poisoning his blood and body and making his reaction impossibly filthy. Kun looked nothing short of scandalized, and Mark was frozen in his movement halfway down to reach for the candle not to be thrown over by Cerberus, when Ten’s obnoxious snicker rang through the room.

“I like that one,” the warlock grinned, eyes locking down on Jaemin whose tongue was still tracing the torn skin, licking up any droplet of blood possibly oozing out. Fast spreading poison made it impossible for Renjun not to react, knees buckling and getting weak until he was only held up by the incubus’ strong hold.

“My poor little witch,” the demon purred, abandoning the wound for the time being to instead kiss his way up the younger’s neck, until he could eventually reach the unpierced lobe to dig his teeth into. “I’ll have so much fun with you when you return.”

“Demon!” Kun bristled across the room, and at this very moment Renjun was certain that, were his familiar not a turtle, it would be ready to brawl with his own familiar. Cerberus might, but Cerberus was as motivated as his warlock - read: not at all. “Begone!”

The boy felt more than saw the grin spreading on Jaemin’s unfairly blessed face. Then again, Jaemin was a sex demon, someone to charm people with his looks, mislead them, seduce them. “You can’t ban me, warlock. I am his” - sharp nails dug into Renjun’s stomach, making him arch his back - “and his alone.”

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


He woke up to a bedroom that wasn’t his, didn’t have neither the coziness of their wooden attic he had covered in blankets and pillows and art materials and grimoires, nor did it have the cold spookiness of the Academy’s dorms with their bare stone walls and eternally burning candles. It was neither and yet so much more. Plush mattress, soft silken sheets, clean white and the rush of ocean waves streaming in from the outside. He could hear it, he just couldn’t see it. It was eerie.

Warmth engulfed him from behind, and he wasn’t even aware when he had changed to lie on his side. Nails scraped along his bare stomach, his sides, traced between his ribs and down again, until fingers cupped his exposed crotch. Heated breath hit his neck, his ear, tickling his sensitive skin, and within a second, all answers were lain bare in front of him, “I’m hungry, little witch.”

A snap of fingers was all it took for Renjun to go blind, vulnerable to each of Jaemin’s touches that felt more and more intense the longer he felt them. Fingers circling the base of his cock, never actually engulfing his girth but never straying too far, making sure he was teased until he was at least semi-hard. 

“Jaemin-” He hated the way his voice was nothing more than a shaky breath, more affected by this than he wanted to admit. Never before had he been bared like this to anyone, not even his sex crazed familiar. 

Jaemin had been allowed to kiss him, to touch his skin, to lick and bite and suck, but it had always been with his pants on. Opposing the demon’s shameless self. There was a downside to it. Considering it were little touches, short ripples of pleasure, it had never become a real meal for the hellborne, and Renjun had been forced to be more forgiving. He had tried, he had told his personal incubus to go and fuck someone else, but the demon had come back even more tormented, wanting to feed, wanting to tear someone’s life thread apart, but they had all smelled of decay and rotten meat. They had ruined each other, it seemed.

“Don’t think, little witch,” the demon whispered, lips skillfully tracing down each and every weak spot spread out across the smaller’s sensitive neck. Tenfold pleasure hit him, evidently an effect of the dream Jaemin had conjured upon them.

Renjun had to give it up to the demon, it was a sneaky idea, an actually intelligent plan. His kind was not only able to draw life force by direct intercourse or physical contact, that was for the weak ones, the hungry and the inexperienced. The older they got, the more skilled they were. Creating dreams to lure in victims, using minds to sneak into different realms, traveling dimensions that would otherwise be forbidding their nature. Exactly this was what Jaemin was aiming for.

Unable to enter the Academy himself, the familiar had to sneak in through his dreams, get his fixture of energy by feeding in a roundabout way, until he was charged and the witch drained. Telling tales of the power of the demon and yet, he was bound to a half-mortal, not even allowed to carry the title of a warlock for he was none. Derogatory, they called him merely a witch, passing gender rules, defaming him. 

Bound to a witch who would eventually be his demise, for a familiar was unable to live without their witch. It was give and take. Jaemin would take, and take, and take so much more, having all the freedom in the world in his human form, and in exchange, all he had to do was keep Renjun safe. Not for Renjun’s sake, no, it was a basic sense of survival, for their life force was one.

“You’re still thinking.” Jaemin’s melodic voice sounded distant, too distant for the proximity he felt, like the flickering electricity of a lamp giving out. On a whim, the younger turned around and pressed against the demon, forcing the taller to lay back as he parted his legs for a straddle. Much like their life force, their desires were mirrored, and Renjun didn’t have to ask for their lips to meet in a kiss.

Immediately, the demon’s energy became stronger, the more their saliva mixed with their messy kiss, as Jaemin painted the inside of his mouth with spit until all he could taste was the overbearing note of strawberries doused in rosé, aphrodisiac permeating his senses until he felt like a ball of cotton floating through the air. Arousal pooled low in his stomach, way faster, way stronger than it should.  
Like an apple thrown to the ground, breaking into pieces, his senses were shattered, no longer covered in cotton, as Jaemin’s fingers tightened around his aching length. A shameless moan rippled past his lips, seeing no reason to hold back in a dream, not when pleasure was overwhelming him and he felt close to orgasm in a matter of seconds. 

“Mine,” the demon growled, jerking his hand upwards once, flicking his wrist, and Renjun felt the beginning of an orgasm ripple through his nerves. Before everything could come crashing down upon him, his eyes tore open, and this time, it was not to the soothing aesthetic of a house bordering the ocean shore.

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


Having a demon attached to his hip became normal, throughout the months. So much so, that Renjun didn’t protest as Jaemin slid into the bathtub behind him, muscled arms wrapping around his torso, keeping their bodies close together. Priorly, Renjun had asked about the visually increasing strength, and Jaemin’s answer had been simple enough, “I’m molding into your ideal partner. Stronger, weaker, taller, smaller - whatever your libido desires me to be.”

The changes didn’t happen overnight, not with a snap of fingers, but they were more evident to the witch after disappearing for days and then noticing them. Defined lines on Jaemin’s arms, the little increase in height, the little valleys of finely sculpted muscles. They were attractive, unfairly so, as if that face wasn’t so very punchably enough already. 

Ever affectionate, the older nosed along Renjun’s throat, tracing his arteries with his lips and tongue like a thirsting man. In a way, he probably was, starved of magic and energy after the witch had just passed out upon returning the previous night. Gentle kisses woke shivers on their way, until Jaemin reached the part of skin that had scarred, faint teeth mark creating two crescents on the younger’s skin.

“You know, there were a lot of rumors I heard about you before,” Jaemin mumbled suddenly. It wasn’t a topic that had been brought up before, and surely, the demon didn’t need to ask anymore. Mark was a blabbermouth, and Ten was readily oversharing at any given time. Just staying with them, out of Kun’s earshot, meant the familiar knew too much.

For Renjun, though, it was a different story. He hardly knew anything about Jaemin, except that his own familiar seemed to be eager to make his cause of death blue balls, that Jaemin liked sweets and ate them in lieu of human lives, prefered his coffee as bitter as his soul which was… very bitter. Overall, the things he knew about his own partner for life were superficial, nothing deep, nothing about his past, his upbringing, his most personal stories. There was nothing, and not even the Book of Demons had been able to give away any more. 

“What did you hear?” The witch asked in return, fingers tracing along Jaemin’s claws, their unnaturally short length not kept up for those time he could let loose, could just tear red marks across his own stomach. He shouldn’t find them appealing. He still did.

“The son of a High Priestess and a mortal man. Born out of wedlock, away from the Lord’s omnivident eyes. She broke the rules for him, abandoned her life, hid away. And yet…” Thoughtfully, claws tapped against bare skin rhythmically. Jaemin released an annoyed puff. “And yet, the Dark Lord has his eye on you. Wants you for himself. But there’s only so much of you I’m willing to give even to Satan himself.”

Logically, he should be asking why. Why would Lucifer himself want but a halfling. A hybrid, blood diluted by mortal red. He should be making use of Jaemin’s intricate knowledge of the demonic world, of his abilities to get information, of everything.

Instead of all that, instead of precious wisdom, Renjun found himself asking, “What would you leave for the Dark Lord?”

A rumble vibrated throughout the demon’s chest, the mere idea of having to share. Water splashing up, dowsing some of the candles lit around them, the witch found himself pressed with his chest against the opposite edge of the tub, head and shoulders hanging in the air, Goosebumps spreading around his skin from the sudden change of temperature. 

Jaemin’s body rose against his, chest against back, skin sticky from moisture and oils. Fingers traveled up the bare expanse of his thighs, forced them apart as much as the limited space of the bathtub allowed, and further and further up, until finding their junction. “He can ask for your body, but your pleasure is mine. He can ask for your devotion, but your heart will be mine.” Each little promise, sealed with a kiss against his spine, lower and lower, down and down. “He can ask for your promises, but your mouth is only mine. Can ask for your spells, but your tongue is mine. He can ask for your hand, but the ring on it will be mine. He can ask for your head and your brain, but the thoughts filling them will be of me. Anything he’ll ask of you, it will already be mine.”

Moaning, Renjun clung with his fingers to the edge of the tub. His heart was racing, and he wasn’t certain it was the pleasure of Jaemin’s mouth going lower, and lower, until it eventually stopped where it would fulfil his most bittersweet need, or because the possessiveness dripping, flooding, the demon’s voice was thrumming his heart’s strings, one by one.

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


If anyone dared think just because Renjun had gone to be a full time student, he’d be exempt from any and all house chores, they’d be big time disappointed. There were still a bunch of things he had to do, had to go shop for groceries, had to take Cerberus for a walk, had to feed Kun’s turtle familiar that would forever be left without a name, as it seemed. In short, he was seemingly worked to death. 

But it just so had to be that Jaemin - that bastard! - had been too lazy to tag along for the walk through the woods with Ten’s familiar during a time hellhounds were apparently in heat. Renjun had for sure not been told about it, or the beautiful dog wouldn’t have changed appearance where the borders between the realms was thin only to be attacked by a bunch of males at once.

Figuring, despite being human, the witch was equipped with a dick, the most territorial ones had promptly started chasing after him, wanting to get rid of him, well knowing the weaker ones would not even close to mating. Hellhound rituals were ironic. Instead of the males fighting each other, they had to take on the female, and only if they bested her, they’d be allowed to mate. And Cerberus… Hell, she was a whole ass bitch. About as moody as her warlock and quite as skilled as well. Similars attracted each other, after all. There was a reason they were called familiars, not differentiators.

But fucking hell, why did it have to be him to be running for his life, away from territorial hellhounds lured in by Cerberus’ cloying sense? And why did Jaemin, his own familiar, a sex demon of all kinds unholy, have to be ignorant of such fact? He wasn’t even certain of the incantation to bind a hound, neither could he channel enough of his magic right now to drive them away with an order. Then there was still the matter of that female bitch being left to her own demise… Not that her three heads wouldn’t work to her own advantage anyways.

Unfamiliar with these parts of the woods, with the trees not speaking to him, telling him of their paths, afraid of the hounds crashing into sturdy bark themselves, he was vulnerable, could only keep running and that, too, would eventually not be enough to run away from a fucking demonic dog. As great pet dogs as they were, they were vicious at times like this. And it was just his luck he had to trip, and roll down a hill, autumn leaves spreading out, flying away, clearly painting a path of his fall into the air. 

His arm cracked as he collided with a fallen tree at the bottom of the downhill, water from a seeping spring soaking his clothes and making it harder for him to get his bearing together. The hounds laughed at him, their snickers eerie as they stopped atop the raise, hellfire eyes focusing on him as they slowly inched the first bits down until they were close within jumping reach. And Renjun, Renjun could already see his life passing by him right this moment, as the first hellhound got ready for the pounce.

Before it hit him, warm splatters hit his face, metallic stench permeating the air. It burnt on his skin, hotter than any liquid at these temperatures should be, and it was followed by a wet squelch and heavy thump. When he opened his eyes again, it was to the sight of Jaemin’s bare back, dressed in nothing but sweats hanging low on his hips and his whole left arm painted in red. Droplets were falling, one by one, sizzling as they evaporated in water or set tiny flames to the wet fallen leaves. 

Demon blood always ran hotter, considering they were crafted in hell, but hellhounds might just be the worst, raised from the torturing flames of hellish embers, their fresh blood might be enough to set fire to houses at their most agitated state before death. They were not yet, were not driven into a blood craze, not daring enough to start a fight with a higher tiered demon like an old incubus, not when the acidic stench of rotten wine rolled off the familiar in waves.

Only when their steps had been carried away by distance and wind, did Renjun allow himself to release the breath he had held without knowing. The sudden influx of oxygen was dizzying, albeit not as much as was having Jaemin close. Once within reaching distance, the witch did not hesitate to yank the older closer, helplessly clinging to the exposed skin. “I hate you,” he whispered, again and again, because without Jaemin by his side, he had just felt the worst terror of his life.

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


“I thought we’re meeting up with you,” Chenle pointed out, frown on his face. Which, okay, understandable. Renjun got what this was about without asking because he, too, hadn’t expected Jaemin to just tag along like this but, apparently, his idiot of a familiar had become more protective after last week’s hellhound mating experience. 

On the other hand, he could understand why his two human friends were against his kind-of-lover coming with them on their outing. Their first encounter had been… a mess. He would have been equally ready to slap someone’s brain out of their head had they just kissed either of his two younger friends. He was also well aware of that time Jisung and Chenle had stopped by their manor to ask about his whereabouts after he hadn’t picked up their calls recently (blame the magical realm having no phone lines for that!) only to run into the perpetrator of sexual harassment in blatant daylight. Not exactly what they had looked for.

“He’s…” Renjun stopped, licked his lips, ignored the fingers sneaking up the back of his hoodie, tried to find the right word to describe their situationg. “Clingy…”

“Clingy?” Jisung repeated, and he sounded about as doubting as Renjun felt. The term was a giant understatement for what was actually going on. Jaemin was greedy, greedier than anyone else could be, and he was starved, needing to replenish a week’s worth of energy in two days now that the Academy had found out about a particular demon continuously breaching their bans to sneak inside. Dreaming was off the list of possible activities. Furthermore, the hell creature was awfully protective and possessive. It just didn’t sit well with him to leave Renjun alone so fast again.

“Clingy?” Chenle repeated, a bit more exaggerated, and clearly catching the point of how their friend was in strict denial of attention at most other times. Yet here he was, with an alibi-boyfriend literally clinging to him, not being shy about physical contact, with many more marks than could be counted decorating his freshly attacked neck, and apparently not minding it. Renjun, honestly and obviously, could understand the exasperation.

“Hungry,” Jaemin corrected, the sweetest smile that could possibly exist decorating his face, and it wasn’t even a lie. Even with a turtleneck on, the demon had found ways to adorn the witch’s skin with bruises that were quite obviously telling about his intent with the younger. 

Bless Jisung’s innocence and unawareness of the magical dimension to not get the hidden meaning behind the familiar’s one-word-reply. Instead, the youngest tilted his head aside, curiously eyeing the currently honey-haired, and asked, “If you’re hungry, shall we settle down somewhere then?”

For a split second, the incubus’ energy flared, like a torch freshly replenished with gasoline, and then it subsided again as he nuzzled into the smaller’s nape. “I like him, Injunnie. Can I devour him?”  
“If you want to be exiled to the couch for eternity, go on,” the witch hissed angrily, well knowing of how to play the other by now and, promptly, the demon’s stance adjusted to a proper one. The energy around him calmed down, pheromones decreased as Jaemin was so subtly reminded to keep it low.

In the demon’s eyes, Renjun was aware, humans mattered little. Their life span was short, eventually, they would lose worth to his eyes, too. He had been warned of that, and whereas Kun and Ten could tell him repeatedly, it had been only with Mark pointing it out that it had hit home. He was immortal. He had sold his soul to the devil half a year ago and gained immortality and power in exchange. Eventually, Jisung and Chenle would seem like flickers of a candle to him.

But for the time being, for the time these were still of matter to him, he didn’t want Jaemin to taint them, nor their friendship. They should be allowed to live their innocent lives, to be spared the troubles that came with befriending a witch and the newly attached demon, and, first and foremost, they shouldn’t die at said demon’s hands. 

It might have taken some days but it had been a thing he had, excruciatingly slow, drilled into Jaemin’s brain until he had remembered. Other lives Renjun could spare, but not those of his own friends. The uppermost rule. Followed by a bunch of others Jaemin had found awfully bothersome, apparently.

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


Sitting in front of a High Priest was… intimidating, to say the least. Taeyong’s eyes seemed bare of all emotions as they were directed at him, taking in the sight of the witch who seemed to go against all rules. Thoughtful, tormenting. Like these dark orbs could break through all his walls.

“Would you call back your familiar, please?” 

Surprised, Renjun blinked at the older. Had a man of such position just… asked? Politely, even? It was unexpected. More than that, even. “My… familiar?” He repeated slowly.

“Someone keeps breaching my spells and I’m tired of it,” the warlock sighed, leaning back in his chair that swiveled to the sides a bit. Right and left. Left and right. “It’s a demon coming in from outside but without help from inside, it shouldn’t be able to breach. Ten said something about yours being quite stubborn recently and it took me a while to confirm your suspicions. So here we are.” The High Priest shrugged.

“I can’t do that,” the witch answered, frowning lightly. This was not exactly the kind of conversation he wanted to have with his own headmaster, even less so when said man was affiliated with one of the two who had raised him until now. 

Within the room, the temperature dropped by a few degrees, encouraged by Taeyong’s cold stare. Scary enough, were they not interacting with demons and the dangerous on the daily. 

“Sir,” Renjun started his explanations, “I really can’t. He’s possessive. Even if I told him to leave me alone, he would just track me down again and again. I’m not intentionally acting up, I just have no means of controlling him.”

The headmaster gave him the stinky eye, clearly more annoyed than actually bothered by the current situation. It must be for anyone, feeling their protective bans getting breached again and again, knowing it was impossible to entirely cut off the bond between a magic user and their familiar. 

Were it physical appearances, it would be easier. Trace every little wormhole down and close them. Exhausting and effective at once. Dreams, on the other hand, the mind, the emotional connection, they could not be shut down. A permanently open door between those locked together by a bond. Might as well try to untangle a hexed piece of yarn.

“Find some means then,” the older frowned. Taeyong still looked handsome, and would Renjun not know better, he’d suspect the warlock of having an incubus’ demon blood flowing through those veins as well. Only that witches, warlocks, and demons didn’t mix like that. 

“Sir,” Renjun tried again, chewing his tongue nervously. It was awkward, horribly embarrassing, to admit to it, it just seemed there was no other way than doing this, “Jaemin’s an incubus… If he wants to feed, I can’t possibly stop him.”

Immediately, the superior halted in his swiveling motion, dark eyes glinting with interest. Not the dark and tempting kind Ten’s would if such conversation came up, no, it was on the professional side, like a scientist finding a new kind of animal. Wanting to explore, research. In such situation, there was no border, no indecency. “Did you feed him properly yet?”

In theory, Renjun knew what that meant. Sex. Not just sexual behavior, not just using the lips, the mouth, the hands. A proper connection, allowing their bodies to become one, permit Jaemin access to his core and most spiritual magic. 

The thought alone drove the heat to his cheeks, neck burning from embarrassment. “Sir-”

“Feed him, then,” Taeyong answered, seemingly unbothered. “He won’t get as hungry as fast, and I can be left alone finally.”

Renjun doubted that. Even if fed, Jaemin was clingy, awfully so. A whole leech for physical contact, and it would drive the witch mad were it anyone else. It was a wonder, a whole hellish torture they had not yet tied the final knot, connected to each other like they could be with no one else. It was a wonder, because Jaemin was literally living off that. 

The conversation was cut short by the bell ringing, signaling the beginning of class. As much as Renjun wanted to defend his dignity, he was in a losing spot. Either way, only his own pride would be affected by that. And he would miss class on top.

“Sir,” he muttered as he got up, bowing his head before scrambling away. Taeyong’s eyes felt cold on his back where they traced his moves. Renjun tried to ignore it to his best.

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


Jaemin swallowed around him, making it too much too fast. Teasing tongue, pheromone soaked spit, it was driving him mad. Had him whimper from the stimulation as it bordered painful, had his toes curl in, his fingers clawing at the fabric of sheets beneath him. Not as silky as those in his dreams, worn out cotton, they felt more like home.

Finally, the demon had pity with him and pulled back. Lips swollen and rosy, they were too inviting for Renjun, in his brain-sucked-out-through-his-dick mode, to refuse. Thoughts being read, Jaemin moved upwards. Blanketing the witch’s naked body with his own bare one, their lips met for a kiss. Messy, greedy. Possessive. 

The younger couldn’t help whining into the kiss, arms coming up to wrap around the taller’s sturdy body and pulling their frames even tighter together. He hated the effect Jaemin had on him, more intense than any familiar should be. There was a reason they took the shape of an animal, limiting their abilities, making them inferior to witches and warlocks.

Not Jaemin, though. Because this awfully stubborn idiot had refused to be inferior, affecting Renjun, again and again. He hated it, yet he fell for it. Again and again. Jaemin was his weakness and his strength at once. A tool to channel his magic, emphasize his abilities, strengthen his focus. And the one who kept bringing him down. To his knees, to his lowest point of defense.

“You can’t” - Renjun gasped, in between their tangling of tongues, arching his back from all the arousal flooding his body again, demanding for more, for everything - “keep visiting me.”

“Your dreams?” The demon asked, leg slotting between Renjun’s and giving him something to grind against. Lips traveled lower, attacked his neck, sure to leave more marks there that would last him yet another week. 

Slowly, the younger nodded. With how Jaemin was working against him once more, attacking his sensitive spots with lips and hands, fingers pressing into his sensitive skin, skimming his chest, it was hard to focus. Nearly impossible. He wanted to stop but he craved for more.

“Why?” The demon asked, voice sinister, malicious. Any answer would be wrong, there was no positive outcome to this, no way to escape the terror that was Jaemin, Nana, sex personified.

Slowly, Renjun opened his eyes again. Vision blurry, it took moments until it focused, got less hazy. His fingers curled into cherry blossom colored hair. He needed something to ground himself, to focus his attention on, just so he’d be able to answer this seemingly easy question. “High- High Priest-” 

Moans and whines left his lips as Jaemin’s dainty fingers travelled lower, found home again. It was distracting, more so than he wanted to admit. His pleasure was cut off by digits tightening around his girth, allowing him to be clear headed for a moment. 

“He reprimanded me… Because of you,” the witch pressed out, between clenched teeth, just in time. 

Jaemin’s fingers sped up again, slick from the spit still covering his skin. Incubus spit, annoying saliva, wouldn’t dry for minutes, emphasizing its lasting effects. Renjun hated it.

The demon hummed in thought, seeming to consider it for a moment. Soundwaves resonated against the younger’s skin, driving him further insane. 

“Jaemin,” he whined. Begged. Pleaded.

“Hm… No,” the demon denied him, and moved further up again. Lips closed around the sensitive spot that was the witch’s ear, pulling into a malicious grin. “Because you’re mine, little witch. And I’m free to do with you whatever I want.”

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


Originally, Renjun was not much of a party goer. Too many people, too loud music, too bright lights. But whatever kind of drink the dramatic trio had handed him, it worked wonders. It made his mind hazy, had him ignoring all the unpleasantries of being surrounded by the horndogs that were the warlocks in this bar.

One of them became brave, approached him. Mind clouded, tired out by the stress that was school, it seemed easy enough to drown out the fact it was a stranger pressing against his back, swaying hips in the same rhythm as Renjun did. Warlocks, more than witches, fell victim to hedonism. They enjoyed sins and sinning, driven by instincts as any male would be. Witches though, witches were searching for wisdom, towering above these lower thoughts and senses. 

Unfortunately, it was his downfall, his demise. He was called a witch, missing the warlock father that would inherit him such title, but he was still male. The only one, the only male witch, the only witch defaming their state by giving in to temptation. Temptation in the form of Jaemin that he was now craving.

Originally, he should be home, should get smothered by his familiar’s love. Instead, Jeno had used The Eyes against him. The most irresistible puppy eyes. Accompanied by Yangyang’s and Donghyuck’s snickering, Renjun had given in, had agreed to come along to the warlock bar. 

Desire and magic infused alcohol were mixing in his blood, meddling, sucking him in. He wished for Jaemin and with hands reaching for his front, tracing his faint abdominal lines through the thin shirt and holding his hips, he was easily drowning in the idea of this being Jaemin.

Yearning clouded his minds, heat slowly spread through his veins. He wanted Jaemin, more than anything at this very moment.

Donghyuck gave him another drink. The stranger pressed further against his back, dancing slowly, swaying. Hips against hips, it was impossible to ignore the heat pooling not only in his own stomach. Like those wonderful swirls of silver that were his demon’s orbs.

“Jaemin…” He breathed into the air. The string tied around his chest, around his heart, tightened, snapped. Within an instant, he was greeted by the familiar scent of alcoholic berries, by hands curving around his waist, claws tearing through the clothing of his shirt and the tissue of his skin. 

Renjun was pulled forward, and backwards right away. The claws dug deeper into his flesh, poison spread. His knees buckled.

“Fuck off, warlock.” Jaemin’s eyes were not silver, hypnotizing, luring in prey. They burnt with the flames of hell, ever consuming, everlasting. They would devour whatever was in their path but warlocks were nothing if not daring, still resisting the demon’s warning, “This one is mine.”

“Warlocks shouldn’t lie with demons, creature,” the stranger behind Renjun whispered. The claws dug deeper. The witch moaned, back arching in delight. Pain shouldn’t bring so much pleasure but pleasure or pain, anything given to him by his familiar brought upon him nothing but desire.

“Lucky me,” the demon purred, eyes locking with the younger’s, “He is no warlock. And he is mine.” As if to make a point of it, Jaemin pulled up the smaller’s shirt, torn cloth easily giving way to show off the brand of lust raking its way upwards the evident line of Renjun’s spinal cord. 

Immediately, the warlock let go, allowed the demon to pull closer what was his. Renjun promptly leaned into his lover, parted lips begging for the kiss he was instantly rewarded with. Blood trickled down his back, soaked into the waistband of his pants. His cravings had multiplied, increased with the poison in his arteries, amplified by the pheromones he inhaled. 

Renjun’s back hit the wall before he had even realized Jaemin had maneuvered him away from the dancefloor, he only had taken note of the older picking him up, bringing their bodies impossibly close. A moan escaped him, mouth opening further, readily receiving the words the demon mumbled. “Say it.”

With a confused sound, the witch pulled back, head dropping against the wall, offering his neck. Teeth broke through his skin brutally, would leave another scar on his flesh. Bit by bit, the demon would mark him up, temporarily, eternally. These scars, they would never leave. 

“Say you’re mine, little witch. Say it, Renjun,” Jaemin demanded, more insistently this time around. Demanding, taking, always taking and taking more. It was impossible to refuse, to say no, to deny.  
The words left his lips in response to an ultimate calling. How could he possibly refuse the one to stay with him for all of his life? How could he possibly say no when all he could think about was Jaemin anyways? How could he when, in fact, he couldn’t, and all his other words were swallowed by further kisses.

He was swallowed by the wall, sank into it. They tilted backwards, like a book falling in a ninety degree axis. When he landed, it was into the soft sheets of his bed. Renjun didn’t hold back his noises any longer.

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


It was just his luck, for the one time he was back home on a vacation everyone had fallen sick with a warlock’s flu. Unlike the human version, it could not just be cured with some herbs, roots, and meds. Fever was turned into hellish heat, coughing was replaced by throwing up green bile, sneezing would tear apart their liver tissue. 

Shortly, it was cruel, brutal, and bloody. Renjun just felt lucky he had arrived home long past the thirteen hours the virus was contagious, meaning he could no longer catch it. The downside was, all chores around the house were thereupon his responsibility. Including the groceries he hated to get. 

Jaemin had still been asleep by the time he had woken up, inevitably meaning he was forced to go alone. One thing for sure, it was no fun dragging bags of groceries home on his own when he could make his demon do that. He would have. Might have. Who is he even trying to convince, Jaemin’s sleeping face made it impossible to bother him.

With a sigh, he took the cart to push around the store. Kun had been nice, compiled a shopping list for him and handed over his credit card. Which also meant, Renjun was entirely about to indulge himself in all the snacks he wanted. At least those were light, easier to carry than the hellish bout of vegetables needed.

Unfortunately, he had not yet learned how to lighten the food’s weight. Summoning demons? He excelled at that. Hexing things? Five golden stars. Cursing people? Might as well get a medal. Losing weight easily, though? Becoming stronger? Taller? That’s where the Dark Lord had said “nope!” with a popping p and end of that story. 

An hour or perhaps five years might have passed, when he hit the last isle in the pharmacy section. Not that human medication would even work on their magical blood but, you know. It definitely was not for his eyes drifting to the packs of condoms and bottles of lube placed there. He had never considered them before so why was he stopping now? Oh, right, he had a fucking sex demon at home. Fucking meant as insult, not the action. They still hadn’t gotten there. His virginity remained unholy and was to be preserved. At least that’s what Mark had said some several months ago.

“Strawberry lube sounds nice,” a low voice muttered into his ear and, yes, Renjun was a witch, dealing with demons, hunted by hellhounds, cursed into hell and back. But Satan forbid, the sudden sound had him leaping into the air and nearly toppling over his cart hadn’t strong arms wrapped around his middle, holding him down. Holding him against Jaemin’s body. Fucking incubus muscles.

“We won’t-” Renjun started but already had the demon fetched it and thrown it into the cart. Not just one bottle, or two, no, there were a fricking three of those. It sent tingles down his spine just thinking about it, the many things he’d have to suffer soon, at a lust creature’s hands. 

“...need the condoms, I agree,” Jaemin easily answered, his free hand coming down on the handle of the cart to push it forward, away from the traitorous shelves that might tempt him into putting the lube back where it belonged. Far away from his ass. Although it seemed like a nice replacement to the older’s spit.

“Don’t try me, little witch.” As if his thoughts had been read, Renjun startled, whined nearly, when that slippery tongue curled around the shell of his ear, entirely too long to be human but too short to seem off-putting. “Your family is sick. No one will run in on me having my fun with you, and I do think it’s time you stop holding me back, my dear. Tonight, I’ll have all of you, witch.”

It sent shivers down his spine, had the heat pool low in his body, mind racing to look for the right protective spells to guard him from his own familiar. Since the first day, since their first kiss, it had been a point of no return. He didn’t even want to return.

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


“The first time I laid my eyes on you,” Jaemin rumbled, voice low and throaty and entirely too appealing for what they had just done. Sticky body pressed against his, chest against back, Renjun felt engulfed all over again. Suffocated by demonic heat. “I knew you’re mine. I had to have you, Renjun. No matter the cost, you’d be mine.”

Teasing fingers travelled lower, wrapped around his thigh to lift it up, bend it backwards to rest on top of Jaemin’s hip to expose his most intimate spot. Fingers teased through the slick mess, ran along his skin, mixed the remains of intercourse and rubbed them into his flesh as if it would further brandish him. It probably did. Marked him as owned by an incubus more than the tattoo he had never asked for ever could. 

Like a seal stamped on the inside of his body, he was irreversibly Jaemin’s, owned by a demon. His kind would call him a whore, professing to a seemingly lesser being. Even without it, were they normal people, stupid oblivious humans, he could no longer return. That was Jaemin’s charm. They were made for each other. 

“I called upon you.” His words, followed by a breathy moan, barely left his lips. The fingers kept dancing, tracing, dipping. Slowly drove him insane. “Called… called you forth… To- to find me…”

His own fingers clawed at the sheets, tried to find support under Jaemin’s relentless teasing. He hadn’t been allowed a moment to breathe, to recover. His magic was drained, he had no more to offer up. Substituting the life force the demon fed on, he had run dry. Could no longer procure a single spark by snapping his fingers. 

“I could feel that.” The first digit dipped inside, squelching sound of too much fluid stuffed inside the witch’s body. It had Renjun moaning, arching his back. Feeling like floating off the bed, if not held down by Jaemin’s second arm circling his waist from underneath. “Like I had to look for something. Or someone, little witch.” The demon grinned. “But even without your calling, I think I would have wanted to devour you the moment I saw you. What a short lived pleasure.”

The last words were whispered into the younger’s ear, crept into his brain, clawed into his memory like a parasite. It would have been a limited pleasure, indeed. Selling his soul to the devil himself, he was rewarded with something akin to immortality. It didn’t win out against most cases of death regardless. Not with a demon, not with Jaemin bypassing his magic, going for his life itself. 

Like this, it was better. Better and worse at once. He wouldn’t die, couldn’t die at the hands of his own familiar, a being made to protect him. But that meant so much more of this bittersweet pleasure, burning hot torment. Sickeningly addictive torture. 

“Jae- Jaemin!” Pleasure soared like the raging fires of hell through his body, consumed him from inside out. It didn’t fade, it was followed by another searing sensation, starting from the very point the demon’s digit pressed into his sweet spot. Crept up his insides, heated iron, writing into his flesh. “Stop, don’t- Fuck! Lord! Please-”

The pressure remained, another minute, another day, another week. Only ten seconds passed. His body crashed back into the sheets, legs trembling, he would collapse were he standing. Like this, there was only Jaemin catching him, pulling him in tighter, caging him with a bigger frame. Like a blanket, like a grave. Buried, protected, guarded, all at once.

“Mine. All of yours is mine,” the demon reiterated once again, a silent whisper, a spell of black magic. It was the last Renjun heard before passing out.

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


Interim exams were… vexing. Stressful. It was actually nerve-wracking. Expectations on the most different ends of the spectrum. He could do worst, being only a halfling, half the powers, half the abilities, half the endurance. He could exceed, the son of a High Priest, noble blood in his veins, having studied so much. 

Yet, none of that beat the pressure of having a dozen pairs of eyes turned onto him. The interest in his friends’ orbs, their blatant staring, careful observation of his skills. The dark glint in Taeyong’s eyes, the High Priest overlooking his progress, having to test him, grade him, make him pass or fail.

Renjun craved for nothing but the soothing touch of his familiar, the fingers tracing along his spine, caressing his sides, kissing the top of his head. Their bond was thrumming, vibrating, tense from need. This time, Jaemin had no means of getting inside.

The room was sealed, more tightly than all of the Academy, not allowing anything in nor out without the permit of the headmaster. No witch and warlock could enter nor leave. No demon could sneak past the bans cast in the Dark Lord’s name. They had to be called upon, required the sacrifice of a drop of blood of the warlock guarding these borders as a permit to enter. 

Knocking against a shut door, kicking it, throwing his body weight, Renjun could feel Jaemin’s insistent need to get inside. The desire to be close at a time like this, seek for and offer reassurance. Taeyong, too, must feel it. Dark eyes darted around the room, over at the witch in their midst, and recognition flared up quickly. No familiar must be as stubborn as Renjun’s, as needy, as desiring. They were supposed to roam freely, enjoy the life according to their desired shape, and yet, what coincidence it was. The only familiar in human form pairing with the only male witch of history.

“Huang Renjun,” the High Priest called upon him. The boy, in an instant, stiffened, looked over, at the intimidating figure of the headmaster. “Continue with your turn. Draw the lottery and conjure what you’re assigned. Everything else has to wait.”

Everything else. Jaemin. The witch easily saw through these words, felt the echo of Jaemin trying to get close and being rejected again. And again. And again.

He took a deep breath. Now he couldn’t think of his familiar, had to focus on the task at hand, channel his energy into the summoning lest he’d fail. There weren’t serious setbacks, he wouldn’t fail a year, hadn’t to learn everything anew, but he would not reap the benefits of a successful conjuring. 

His hand reached into the urn and, what irony of the Dark Lord’s will, looked at the word written down. Succubus. The female counterpart of what Jaemin was. The single sort of demon he would struggle with merely for the marks drawn upon his skin by his familiar himself. 

Fucking Na Jaemin. Would sleep on the couch for days hereon.

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


“Let me take you on a date, Junnie.” Thick arms circled around his waist, bare and exposed and easily sticking to his skin where he was already soaked with sweat thanks to the sweltering summer heat. It didn’t exactly get better with the heat of the stove in front of him.

Kun was gone for the week, and allowing Mark or Ten to cook might as well mean to burn down the whole house. Not a smart idea. Not in the least. And that, in accordance, meant Renjun had to do it. It was their pattern, how they did it. If any of the three were not available, it was Renjun’s turn to take over. Groceries, food, cleaning. Anything. He would have cursed anyone outside his family for doing the same to him. 

Slightly disgruntled, the witch turned his head to look at the taller, taking in his expression, posture. Looking for a single hint of guilt. There was no reason Jaemin would offer such a thing, not willingly. It was always about coaxing him into pliancy for sex, about having done something wrong. “What brought this on?”

“Mark,” the demon immediately chirped, pressing a little kiss to the younger’s lips. With Jaemin, it could always escalate into a full on make-out session. Not now, not with their food on the stove. 

Across the kitchen, the warlock looked up. Confusion marred his cute face, looking adorable, a little lost hyena cub. Catching on thanks to Jaemin’s prompting, Mark released a knowing sound. “Ah. Jaemin said you’re pretty much married in the Dark Lord’s books anyways. Asked him when you had your first date and proposal.”

Just like that, the grounded magic user returned to his readings, oblivious to the surrounding worlds. It would be more bothersome were the older not endearing doing so. Renjun would never admit to his soft spot towards family. 

“In that case, no.” The witch shrugged off the stubborn arms around his waist, where they had resided all throughout this time. It made him feel like melting. It was too hot to bear with this kind of proximity, simply sharing a bed was already torture. They already slept without blankets, without clothes, until the only thing protecting his dignity during those times in the mornings his family burst into the room was Jaemin’s scandalous hand. (Renjun really had to work on that spell auto-locking his door every night.)

A pathetic noise came from the demon’s lips, be it at the refusal of a date or proximity. Immediately he tried to go for another embrace but Renjun was not used to the heats of hell, had grown up on human grounds, couldn’t bear that any longer. Effectively, he elbowed the demon away whose whining would never stop, “Why? Renjunnie, you’re bound to go on a date with me!”

“I’m not,” the witch denied, flipping the pancakes around. Free again, he poured the freshly brewed coffee into a mug and handed it over as a bribe. Once he had tried with a cooling potion, had added an extract of rose and mint into it, only for Jaemin to basically spit it into his face. Not that Jaemin would ever spit into his face, that fucker. It had landed all over his freshly washed clothes instead. 

“You’re legally obliged to!” The demon whined, not entirely pacified by the coffee but somewhat. Still pouting, still annoying, just a tad less clingy. 

Renjun huffed, placing the pancakes on paper towels to drain the fat a bit. The first serving slid across the kitchen counters by itself, ending up in front of Mark. The warlock definitely was pacified by the food. 

More dough was poured into the pan, a serving meant for Ten who had yet to show up for breakfast. Not his problem if his uncle had to eat cold food later. The sizzling was soothing, intense for a moment and slowly dying down.

“Can’t recall agreeing to that,” Renjun still refused. He knew he’d give in, couldn’t refuse his own demon, the one who knew him inside out, he just wouldn’t do so willingly. And Jaemin better had to have a perfect plan for him. “Where did you even want to go?”

“Don’t know yet.” The incubus smiled brightly, not caring, not thinking, staring into his steaming mug of coffee. Pools of swimming silver gazed up, at the witch, innocently asking, “Why?”

Renjun curled his nose. “Come up with a plan first, dumbass. You can sleep on the ground tonight.” Someone this stupid did not deserve a bed.

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


It was late at night and, in theory, Renjun shouldn’t even be out anymore. 

Mark had become suspicious about witch hunters recently which - what irony! - name wise would exclude all males. Only these bastards didn’t differentiate. Drawing attention, staying out late at night on their own, being away from other people. All that was forbidden. In theory. 

Reality had Renjun staying somewhere in the woods, dragged to a party by Jisung and Chenle. They had grown up so well. Went to college now, worked on their degrees, had become more mature. Less baby fat on their cheeks, all the same mischief in their eyes. Jisung had become even taller and the witch had been close to stomp the younger’s foot on more occasions than just once. 

His kids were aging, he was stuck in time. It had him feel melancholic, nostalgic for what had not yet been. They would keep aging, get wrinkles, get old. They would die. All that before Renjun’s life had even begun. 

Watching them drink, have fun, celebrate with their peers in the middle of the woods, he hadn’t been able to watch any longer. The trees, the nature, the magical flow had been calling for him. His heart had been aching. Abandoning Mark’s warning, he had stepped deeper inside, further and further. 

The wind was howling through the branches, resembling a storm on a dry night. Today, a nearly full moon was looking down at him, encouraged magic to flow from his fingers, to spread out. It had no purpose so he refused. 

It was difficult to pick up on any other sound under these circumstances, and it must be their very own misfortune, a stranger’s bad luck, Renjun heard the splashing of water behind him. Witches were in tune with nature, because either way, the ground was closer to hell. Disregarding the different layouts, whether hell was the core of earth of angels had fallen through hell onto earth, they were close. Closer than to the heavens. 

Normal people weren’t. He had sensed the little rivulet of water, the stranger had not. When he turned around, coming face to face with a person he didn’t know, dread ran down his spine. He couldn’t explain it, impossible. He only sensed it. This weird feeling of approaching his end.

With the hellhounds, he had experienced it. Summoning a succubus while carrying an incubus’ seal, he had felt it. Falling down the huge staircase at home at three years old, he had sensed it. Now he did again.

A scream lodged itself in his throat, and before he could release it, the man’s body dropped to the ground. Head lolling to the side in an impossible way. Red soaked the ground, flowed into the spring, colored it crimson. Behind him, Jaemin licked his fingers clean.

This time around, the witch’s heart beat for an entirely different reason. “Are you bonkers?” He yelled, watched how this genius face fell, turned into a pout, smeared red with blood. It shouldn’t be attractive. Not to a normal person. What fortune it was he was no normal person after all.

“You were in panic,” Jaemin defended himself, sucked his fingers into his mouth. Liquid pools of silver turned darker, their glimmer more intense. They set fire to Renjun’s body, mixed with his anger. So often, so many times, he had told Jaemin not to kill, not to devour humans out of pure malice, and now there they were, with a corpse at their hands.

Slightly, he wrinkled his nose. He could recognize the glint in the demon’s eyes, smelling the arousal on the younger’s body. Before any thought about that could be formed, Renjun growled, “You get rid of this body. No one should ever be able to find it. After this, you’ll sleep on the ground, fucking mutt.”

“Hey!” The demon instantly wailed, sounding pitiful, pathetic. It didn’t fit his prideful looks. “I just saved you!”

“Yeah,” the witch agreed slowly, frowning. “Which is why today you won’t yet sleep on the ground. You’ll sleep there tomorrow, fucker.”

Red flames flickered in silver orbs, the demon licked his lips, grin widening. “Oh, fucking I can do. And I will do it well, little witch.”

Renjun just flicked him off. “Get rid of the body first. You can pick me up from the party later, dumbass.”

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


“Renjun. Junnie. Come on, baby,” Jaemin purred, bucking up his hips once. It seemed so funny to the witch. His big and prideful demon, always all snark and bite, all temptation and flirts, reduced to a begging man. Even an incubus, temporarily stripped of his power, was nothing more than a horny male. With better endurance, sure, still merely a horny male.

His fingers dug into the unblemished skin, raked down the sculpted torso to leave read streaks in their wake. The scratches ran deep, tore the skin, just not enough to bleed. 

Jaemin’s eyes darkened, his grip around the ties tightened, unable to break them. Normally, he could, would easily tear through the silk, shred it, only to get his hands on Renjun. Not tonight, not when Renjun had fed him a potion. A tranquilizer of sorts, hindering his physical movements, lessening his strength. Poor lust demons, even their powers became useless when they couldn’t move to exert them.

A moan slipped the witch’s lips, grinding down. Incubi, sex demons, were always well endowed. Meant to ruin their victims, kill them with bliss. It was no impossible size, wouldn’t tear him to shreds without further aid of magic, it was just impeccable. Looking at it was enough to have Renjun’s mouth water, to fill his body with heat. It felt so nice, sliding along between his cheeks, slick from the lube he had messily spread.

His bed creaked from the strain Jaemin put on his ties. The need to move his body, thrust up, claim what was originally his, it was all too obvious. It was exactly why Renjun had decided on this kind of punishment.

Nails digging harshly into his familiar’s chest, clawing white crescents into quickly reddening flesh, he leant down. Until their breath mingled, their lips nearly touched, and the witch’s words were nothing more than silent air released against their match, “You shouldn’t have flirted around then, Jaemin. Tell me, who do you belong to?”

“You, Injunnie. Only you,” the demon swore, words easily tumbling off his lips. A pledge, it couldn’t be broken. Even if this one promise was, their bon could never be severed. Not until either of them was found dead. “Let me show you, just how much I belong to you. How well I can serv-”

“No,” Renjun cut him off. Sinister smile, it was unlike him. He didn’t take charge. It must do things to even a lust demon, his incubus, to see him like this. Beneath his hand, curled around Jaemin’s throat, the demon swallowed harshly. “You always show me I belong to you. Today,” he whispered, changing directions to mutter directly into the tied creature’s ear, “I’ll show you who you belong to. So you’ll know not to flirt again, demon. So you know you’re mine.”

“Dear Lord…” The demon grunted, head thrown back into the pillow, suffering in anguish at the witch’s low movements. Giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Jaemin always was so relentless, so intense. Taking advantage of all of Renjun’s sweet spots, until the witch was close to going insane, driven to madness by pleasure. Now, he was eager to repay that favor. Now, he was in charge, in control, could do what he wanted without being teased into submission. For this once, he wanted to show the demon there was not only one with weapons made to fight. 

Roughly, he curled his hand into cotton candy pink hair. How ironic it had this color, when there was nothing innocent about their owner. “Jaemin,” he warned, eyes dark, hips grinding with more force, more intent. Pleasure swirled in liquid silver, interlaced by sparks of fire, of lust. “The devil is not the one you need to call upon tonight.”

“Fuck…” The demon closed his eyes, breath hitching, when their bodies became one. And this one, Renjun figured, this one was his favorite Jaemin.

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


Considering Jaemin had organized this date, and told him not to worry about anything, the witch had thought to take it to heart. Just stay back while Jaemin paid but it hit him a bit too late that his familiar didn’t even own any money. To be exact, hit him when the cashier’s eyes had already flared up in silver, affected by the demon’s charm, hypnotizing magic. 

Renjun grunted in distress, nervously looking around whether anyone even noticed his familiar not in fact paying for their amusement park tickets. That would be the worst, drawing attention, simply because this idiot of a demon hadn’t thought ahead. Genius face, empty head. He hated his own lover to his utmost extent. 

Satan must have blessed them with his mercy this moment, for they were not caught, allowed Jaemin to pull his stunt unnoticed. Didn’t mean Renjun was any more fine with this current situation, it must made it a bit easier to endure. Spared his familiar of getting his dick torn off, enforcing celibate until it had grown back. 

The moment the demon had his hands on the tickets, claws reduced to a normal length, shiny with poison, for being a weapon, the witch reached forth to grab him by the ear. Yanking the older along, blissfully ignorant of the scandalized gazes they received, from parents, lovers, kids, he stopped short of the entrance. 

“Are you bonkers?” He hissed. Dejá-vù. This question was asked a few times too often already. One might think Jaemin would have learnt, throughout his years in the human word. Turned out, his familiar was still a fucking dumbass. This time, fucking in the metaphorical and literal sense.

“Why?” The demon shot back, lips pushing into a pout. Renjun wasn’t sure whether to kiss or smack it away.

With an annoyed huff, he pushed the taller away. “You can’t just do that! What if anyone saw? Care to explain how you paid for them then?” He hated his boyfriend. Cover-up boyfriend. Whatever they actually were. 

On the other hand, Jaemin had found an incredibly cute date location for them. So what if Renjun had sworn his soul to Satan, his body to a demon, his heart to an idiot. He was still weak for cute characters and adorable attractions. Not to mention the rollercoasters supposedly sending someone to hell and back.

Minus the fact he now had his stupid familiar accompany him.

“Nevermind,” he grunted, snatching one of the tickets from their hold, “Just don’t do it again, dumbass.” Both knew Jaemin would, because Jaemin was stupid, didn’t listen to his witch. Risking to expose them again and again, until there were no more excuses to offer up. At least they could still find a place to live in the nether realm. So long as the demon hadn’t offended anyone in hell as well. 

“Injunnie,” the older purred, tracing after the witch on their way to the entrance. One arm circling the lithe waist, with the other scanning his ticket at the machine, copying the half-human’s actions. It was a challenge, but Jaemin was stubborn, clingy, and stubbornly clingy. “You’re not threatening me with sleeping on the ground today?”

“‘cause you’re a lost case, Jaemin.” Renjun tried to wiggle free, out of that everlasting hold. Jaemin’s clutches were not something he could escape, never. Not like he wanted to, not in the metaphorical way. “You’ll get us into trouble and I’m the one to bail us out of it. I’ve given up on you idiot.”

“What a pity.” Entirely, the demon went off the path of conversation, choosing his own things to focus on, “I was planning to eat you out until you let me fuck you and then have you agree to let me sleep with you as you scream my name.”

Shivers. Cold and hot. They chased each other throughout his body, and Renjun hated it. Loved it. Either of those. 

The family next to them looked disturbed, the father cursed some harmless things under his breath. They stirred away instantly. Stayed away from the horndogs of a young couple. At least that was what they must seem to be in their eyes.

“Was that your plan?” Renjun asked, trying to sound assertive. Not like these words were already getting him heated, dark promise of his body getting corrupted, lured in by pleasure, soaked in aphrodisiac poison. “Get me mad and then make me forgive you within one day?”

“Most definitely,” Jaemin hummed, satisfaction dripping from his words, curious intrigue in his voice. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t fuck you without you being upset with me, can it?” It most definitely didn’t mean Jaemin didn’t give him a verbal boner again and again that day. Renjun definitely considered sexiling his sex demon within an hour later thanks to that.

  


✫・゜・。. ⛧

  


Time was a curious concept when it didn’t affect him like all the people surrounding him. This thing, he got awfully aware of on this day, staring at the people dressed in black, piling around the holy ground he shouldn’t be standing on. Witches had no place in a church’s cemetery. 

Jaemin’s fingers curled around his nape protectively, keeping him company underneath the shade of the oak tree. He hadn’t felt comfortable getting any closer. Time had left their traces on everyone but him. These people he had gone to school with, they were different people now, a decade later, a decade worth of time. He was still the same, had not aged, looked too young for his age, like an outsider amidst them all.

He didn’t even know the guy who had died, name a distant memory, an echo of the past. Run over by a car in the middle of the night. The driver had escaped, hit and run, not yet found. But funerals could not be delayed, bodies were rotting, souls called for relief. Whether it would end up in heaven or hell was another question, not one Renjun had the answer to, not one he wanted to indulge. 

At least, he thought, he would know where his own soul would go after his death. Spared from the fires of hell, his place was the Devil’s personal palace. Just another resident meaning to find his way in the witches’ and warlocks’ midst. If he was lucky, Jaemin would be blessed with a second chance, could seek him out even in the afterlife, in hell, indulging all the sins of the life after death. 

He was blessed, knowing where he would be at when his body had been burnt to ashes or eaten by worms. It was better than all these humans would have to go through, trials, examinations, find the worth of their own souls and lives. Pitiful creatures.

From the distance, he could catch Jisung’s gaze. The younger had grown taller, had actually been affiliated with this guy resting in a coffin for an indefinite time now, had a reason to be here. Renjun had not.

He could see the question in the mortal’s eyes, about why he was standing away, who the stranger was next to him, whether it was still that weirdo having kissed him upon first encounter. The many things that had changed since the witch had allowed their contact to trickle out, be worn thin. He couldn’t bear seeing them grow old and die on him, now or in the future.

“Jaemin?” He asked softly, silently, feeling like it was a wrong move to disturb the funeral that was so far away. Out of reach, just in sight. A distance he could no longer cross. 

Humans were passing figures, a scratch on the post that was his lifetime. Nothing more than a nick. They couldn’t amass to much, were a plaything in his hands. He shouldn’t indulge them too much.  
The air felt heavy in Renjun’s lungs. Human blood was flowing through his veins, too. His head dropped back against Jaemin’s shoulder, eyes directed upwards, looking at his lover curiously. “You won’t ever leave me. Will you?”

The demon’s eyes seemed considerate looking down at him. They softened up, gaze becoming warm, not yet filled with the heat of lust, dripping affection instead. “Until our Lord calls upon us, my love, I won’t ever leave you. I’ll follow you into death and what comes after if He dares allow me.”

Burdens fell from his shoulders like gravel. Life must be okay for as long as he had Jaemin by his side. Kun would leave eventually, as would Ten, as would Mark. Time was but slowed down, an immortal enemy, it could always come for them. But Jaemin, at least Jaemin wasn’t allowed to abandon him first.

**Author's Note:**

> Actually, I wrote this as an interim work so my writing was a bit different but... did anyone notice? Well, anyways ~
> 
> Thank y'all for reading this and I do hope you enjoyed! (Also, give my baby [Lee](https://twitter.com/xingowo) some love because this story wouldn't be if not for him!)
> 
> If you're interested in what I'm up to, or maybe just want to promote this fic for me, I do have [twitter](https://twitter.com/starrymeis) and I'm always open for any sorts of questions/requests/... on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/starrymeis)!  
> See you next time hopefully ~ ♡


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